Carrying Your Love with Me
by the.terrorist
Summary: Yoh/Anna. For all the times she had opened up to him, she was closing in again, because both her mind and her heart warned her—he would hurt her. He would leave again.


_**A/N:** Hello! This is a one-shot that should have been posted on Christmas, and should have therefore been a Christmas Fic. But then I couldn't finish it in time and I realized that there wasn't anything Christmas-y about it other than the snow. So, here it is! In case you miss those snowy days… *sigh* I know I do, haha! _

_Warning: it is rated M for a reason. AND it's angsty. Mwuhahahaha! _

_Enjoy! :)_

* * *

She was reading a book when he arrived home that cold December evening, a steaming mug of hot chocolate on the coffee table in front of her and a soft blanket around her shoulders.

She heard the front door unlock, and she frowned. There was only one person beside her that had a key, and she was finding it hard to believe that… that he was home.

She was still frowning when he entered the living room, bringing with him the fresh smell of winter. She had closed her book and set a foot on the floor, her other leg still tucked beneath her, looking up at the grin that adorned his features.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, the confusion showing clearly in her voice and expression.

His grin widened. "Is that my 'welcome home'?" he teased, bending down to kiss her.

For a moment, as the smell of Yoh and winter invaded her senses, she didn't mind the proximity. But then instinct kicked in and she turned her head away, causing him to kiss her cheek instead. Abandoning her book on the couch, beside her, she stood, taking a step back as he towered over her.

"I asked you a question," she reminded him.

His grin returned. "I came home," he declared, closing the distance between them and taking her into his arms. Hands sprawled across the lower back, he thumped her gently against his chest, ripping a gasp from her throat. "I missed you," he murmured softly, bending his head down so that his forehead rested against the top of her head.

Anna swallowed heavily, biting her lip in order to stop a reply from escaping her mouth. Her heart thudded in her chest in such a manner that it made it seem as though it was trying to get out, to rip her apart and escape. The proximity was intoxicating—his scent made her dizzy, his touch sent a wildfire roaring through her, his words seeped through her skin, diluted in her blood, and buried themselves so deeply into her heart, embedded themselves so forcefully into her memory, that she was sure she would never forget them, and they would play in her head over and over: a melody for when he was gone again.

His lips brushed against her temple, and her breath hitched, her eyes closing against her will. Her hands trembled where they lay upon his strong arms. His lips reached her cheek, and it took everything of her to stay still for a second more. Jerking away, she wormed her way out of his arms, turning her back to him.

She could practically feel the confusion rolling off him in waves.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he murmured gently. Suddenly, his presence was behind her, his hand brushing the hair away from her neck.

"Nothing," she responded automatically, taking one step further away from him, severing the physical connection between them. "I just… have a headache," she finished quietly.

He took a step forward. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying that he wouldn't push the matter any further. She didn't want to deal with this—she didn't want to deal with _him_. She _could_ not.

His hand brushed against her lower back. "I'll take a shower," he announced, before swiftly moving past her.

His touch left a trail of heat across her skin, and she swallowed thickly, watching him leave the room. When his figure was out of sight, a relieved breath escaped her lips, and she closed her eyes.

It was ridiculous, how easily he could tear her apart into pieces. And Anna did not favor that type of experience. Not anymore.

* * *

Yoh heaved a sigh as he shut off the hot water, feeling invigorated as he stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. Being Shaman King was no easy task, and between his travels and his duties, he barely had time to enjoy the little pleasures of life anymore, such as taking his time showering. Sometimes, even calling his wife seemed to be a luxury he could not afford.

Funny, how he had once believed that becoming Shaman King would solve all of his problems and mean living like royalty. And it did, in a sense. But at this point in his journey, he seemed to have inherited all the responsibilities and none of the advantages.

It was difficult, being away from her. He was used to having her there, by his side, silently supporting him—even more so since they got married. She had opened up to him like he had never even dreamed that she would, and every moment spent by her side showed him exactly how much she loved him. He was everything to her, he knew that perfectly well. As many friends as she might now have, he was still the only person she knew she could always rely on—the only person she knew she could trust unconditionally.

But it seemed like he was never there anymore, and that hurt him, because he _knew_ she needed him.

Anna was independent, and she was tough, and she was self-sufficient. All of those were true. Both of them had learned very early on to live without the other. They had learned that each of them had their own road in life, their own destiny to complete, and that in order for their relationship to work, the other had to respect that. Yoh and Anna were hardly the stereotypical, lovey-dovey couple, because they had a clear understanding of what love truly meant. That had always helped them, there was no doubt about that. But the blonde had always been more vulnerable to solitude than himself. She had been abandoned by her parents and brought up by his grandmother, who, although felt a deep affection for her, was more of a strict trainer than a loving mother figure.

Anna had learned how to deal with the silence, the loneliness, but that hardly meant she liked either of them. And she had relied on him—and only him, always—to protect her from those terrible feelings. She had relied on him to soothe her when she had doubts, to hug her tightly when she had nightmares, to whisk her away when the monsters of her past caught up with her. No matter where he was or what he was doing, no matter how much distance there was between them, she had relied on him—for protection, for love, for companionship. And lately, he felt like he had failed her in everything.

The feeling had become even more intense now that he had come home and she had flinched away from him. When had she done that before? Never, and he knew it was his fault. He had thought she would be happy to see him, happy to hear that he planned on staying home for longer than usual, but it seemed like he had underestimated the sheer magnitude of the problem.

He was hurting her. He was hurting her every time he left, and she was putting a wall around herself, because she knew that, eventually, he would. Here, in his house, with her downstairs, he felt like she was a thousand miles away, and that pained him more than what words could describe.

But he brushed it off, just like he always did. The time they had was too short for regrets—they both knew that by now.

Heaving a sigh, he pulled out a pair of old sweatpants and a t-shirt from the closet, before shutting the door and, with a new resolve, making his way downstairs.

They would solve this, somehow. There was no other way. After all, they had been through worse.

* * *

Anna heaved a sigh as she maneuvered her way around the kitchen, making herself another cup of hot chocolate. It was unbearably cold outside, snow was still falling heavily from the sky—had been doing so for days—and although the house was warm, it was not as warm as she would have wanted it to be. But she was used to all of that—from the bitter coldness, to the silence and the loneliness—so in reality, she had no reason to complain.

Perhaps it was something else that had driven her to do this—to do something that would keep her occupied.

His presence was… unnerving, to say the least. He had been gone for so long, that he seemed out of place, and she felt weird not having the entire house to herself.

Her hand froze as she reached up to take out a mug from the cupboard. How long had it been since she last saw him? She couldn't remember. Her hand slowly lowered, and she placed the white cup on the counter. It must have been summer. She was wearing the white dress he claimed to love so much. That night, she could have sworn he would never let her go. But when morning came, she was alone in their bed, and every trace of him was gone, save for the scent that still lingered on the pillows.

Closing her eyes, she attempted to fight back the fresh wave of memories that this particular thought had brought upon her. She had managed to suppress it when, all of a sudden, a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist, ripping a gasp from her chest and forcing her eyes open. Taking a deep breath to calm her racing heart once his lips pressed against her cheek, she cursed herself for not having heard him when he entered the room.

"For how long are you staying?" She forced the words out of her mouth, willing to do everything in her power not to let the nervousness show in her demeanor. It would do no good for him to suddenly become suspicious and start asking questions.

"For the rest of the month, I suppose," he answered, resting his chin on top of her head. "Mom said she wants us to go to Izumo for Christmas," he announced, and she could feel his grin. "I'd rather tell her I was gone and spend the time with you. Do you think she'll believe me?" he added jokingly.

"Well," she quipped, reaching for a spoon to swirl in her drink, "Your excuse is plausible. You're never home, anyway."

Her answer was a sharp intake of breath.

The subject was one they avoided most of the times, since it was sensitive to both of them. Yoh didn't enjoy traveling so much—not when it took him away from his young wife—and Anna didn't enjoy spending so much time without him. When they were together, they made the most of the moments they had together, and never asked questions. Never asked when he was leaving again, never asked for how long he could stay, because that would be too painful. After all this time, Anna was used to being without him, but she missed him—so, so much, that sometimes it was hard for her not to feel bitter about this situation.

They had both thought life would be amazing after he became Shaman King, and it was hard to accept that she would have rather not had him take that title, if it meant he had to be away from her for so long.

This time, though, it seemed like she could not help herself anymore. It had been too long, and it had hurt too much. His presence didn't feel comforting anymore, he didn't make her feel safe. It was as though a sense of foreboding loomed over them like a black cloud. For all the times she had opened up to him, she was closing in again, because both her mind and her heart warned her—he would hurt her. He would leave again. There was no alternative, no way to stop this. He would leave again, and the closer she got to him, the more it would hurt.

His body was coiled with tension behind her, his hands set on the counter, on either side of her. This was a mistake, her mind screamed at her. This would not make him stay away—this would make him want to talk. And talking was not good, either.

Abandoning her untouched drink on the counter, she made a move to leave the cage of his arms, only to realize that his arm would not budge.

"Yoh," she called, her voice soft.

"No," he answered firmly, placing both hands on her hips and brusquely turning her to face him. "We are going to talk."

She looked up at him, glaring in defiance. "I am not interested in having this discussion again, thank you very much," she spat.

"Anna, you know perfectly well that this situation is not my fault—"

"Well, it's hard to care whose fault it is when I'm always alone!" she snapped back, pushing him backwards and stunning him into silence.

There was silence for a long, tense moment. She glared at him, but beneath her anger, there was pain. Hesitant, he reached out to touch her cheek, to brush the tear that had escaped her eye, unbeknownst to her, but she swatted his hand away. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it back. What could he possibly say?

Suddenly, there was darkness. Both of them froze. Then Anna let out a frustrated sigh.

"Great, just what I needed," he heard her mutter under her breath. Slowly, his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, and he was able to see her, still leaning against the counter, one hand on her hip, the other over her forehead. Taking in a deep breath, he approached her, settling a hand over her abdomen to soothe her as he reached for the drawer where he knew there was a flashlight. She didn't reject him.

"I'm going to check the electric panel," he announced, fiddling with the source of light in order to turn it on.

"I…" She breathed out evenly, and reached out, asking for the flashlight. "I'll come with you."

Their destination was close, just down the hallway. Yoh opened the metal box to look inside, but after a couple of minutes, abandoned his task, deeming it useless. Anna could only watch, flabbergasted, as he swung the small door shut and turned to look at her.

"It seems like we're going to be stuck in the dark for tonight."

She blinked. "The entire house runs on electric current," she said, matter-of-factly.

"I know," he answered simply. "We're just going to have to find a way to stay warm."

She heaved an exasperated sigh. This was the last thing she had needed tonight. "Are you done?" she demanded, and once she received a nod, started back towards the living room. There, she placed the flashlight on the first table she came across, turned on her heels, and stormed upstairs, leaving Yoh to stare after her.

Placing his hands on his hips, the brunet let out a heavy sigh. This was not what he had had in mind when he came home that night.

How was he supposed to reconcile with his wife now?

* * *

Anna closed her eyes for a moment in a vain effort to contain her annoyance as she stood in her bedroom, in front of the window, glaring out at the dark night sky. The room was cold, the snow was falling heavily outside, and she was supposed to keep close to her husband. It seemed like the world hated her, and if it did, the circumstances were perfect, because she hated it just as much at the moment.

She didn't want him close, she thought as her eyes darted upwards, tears of frustration brimming in them at the sound of the door opening quietly behind her. She didn't want to deal with him—at least not tonight. But then again, when had anybody cared about what she wanted?

His arms circled her waist, and she shut her eyes tightly, her hands coming to rest upon them.

"You're upset," he murmured, face buried in the crook of her neck, from where he had swept the blonde hair away. "Anna, please… You know this is something that I have to do. I have no other choice. I—"

"I know," she interrupted, her voice even, despite the emotions roaring through her body. "I know, Yoh, but—" She cut herself off, squeezing her eyes shut and attempting to break free of his embrace. "Don't touch me. Don't touch me, because then it hurts worse, and I—"

"Shh, baby…" he murmured, turning her around and cupping her face within his hands. His warm brown eyes bored into her amber ones, his forehead resting against hers, and everything inside of her seemed to melt at the gentle expression on his face. Bending his head, he kissed her cheek, and she closed her eyes; desperation had already gotten a hold of her body as he reached her lips. Standing on her tiptoes, she responded eagerly, deepening the connection as his arms came to wrap tightly around her waist.

Pulling away from her lips, he began to kiss down her neck, his hands roaming her body, and although his touch was no stranger to her, it did not feel as familiar as it probably should. The realization brought hot tears to her eyes, and it took everything of her not to let them fall.

His hands ran down her back, over the curve of her behind, down her toned thighs, where they stopped their descent and slowly inched their way upwards, lifting the material of her sweater tantalizingly slow while his lips kissed hers passionately. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, she clung to him, hands tangling in his messy brown hair.

Grasping her hips, he attempted to steer her towards the bed, but she stopped him with a frantic shake of her head.

"No," she whispered against his lips, hands unfastening the belt around her waist. Catching on to her train of thought, he grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it over her head in one swift movement, causing locks of blonde hair to fall messily around her face, over her back and shoulders.

Yoh kissed her again, even more passionately this time. He settled his hands on her slim waist, lifting her effortlessly, and she wrapped her legs around his waist in return, pressing her body even closer to his, moaning into his mouth as she felt his arousal pressing against her in all the right places.

"Yes," she hissed as he slammed her against the wall, momentarily breaking the kiss. "Please," she whimpered.

Pulling back, he rested his forehead against hers, his heated stare passing over her near state of undress, over the black, lacy bra and matching panties that barely left something to the imagination.

"Fuck," he cursed, hands running down her sides, thumbs gently rubbing her soft skin. "It's like you knew I was coming."

Anna stretched her neck to latch her lips to his. "I hope," she whispered, half-lidded eyes gazing into his as they snapped up to meet them. "Every day, I tell myself not to, but I do… There's not denying what's going on inside of me, Yoh." A shuddering breath left her lips as she pushed herself off the wall and into his arms, hands resting on his neck. "I'm too weak to resist," she confessed in a whimper against his cheek. "Wanting you, needing you, dealing with your absence… I can't," she choked. "I _miss_ you."

"Sweetheart," he whispered, holding her to him, one arm supporting her weight, the other tangled in her blonde locks, cuddling her face into the crook of his neck. "I miss you, too." Moving her hair to the side, he kissed her neck, whispering against her skin. "So much…"

"I need you," she said, clawing at his back, pulling at his hair. "Here. Now. I need to know you're real. I need to know you're really here, with me."

He was only too pleased to comply.

Thumping her back against the wall, he allowed his hips to support her as her hands began to tug impatiently at the hem of his shirt. He helped her pull it over his head, throwing it to the side carelessly, before leaning in for a bruising kiss. She responded with fervor, hands running over his muscled torso and stomach, hips grinding against his as her breath started to get louder and her heartbeat more irregular.

His hands ran up her sides, caressing the undersides of her breasts, before following a path down again, winding around her waist, soothing over her lower back, before finally coming to caress her thighs… It was as if he was all around her. She was intoxicated by his overpowering presence. His scent, his taste, his touch—everything about him invaded her senses, seeped into her blood, embedded in her heart until she was certain it could take no more and burst.

Soon, his fingers crept behind her to unclasp her bra. One by one, the rest of their clothes joined it on the cold floor, and the only thing keeping them warm was the heat of their bodies.

The night was silent. The only sound resounding through the room was their heavy breathing. They had given up talking long ago. Anna kept her eyes closed, her lips constantly searching his, pressing together in kiss, after kiss, after kiss. Her lungs burned for oxygen, but every breath they took was fed off each other. Her hand was fisted in his hair, and she kissed him repeatedly, desperately—because she was afraid that, any moment now, he would disappear.

That changed when he finally slipped inside of her. Her mouth opened against his to let out a shaky moan, while his chest rumbled with a low growl. Pressing her tighter against the wall, he pulled out, only to push back in, enjoying the fell of her trembling in his arms, arching into his body, mewling against his lips.

Anna closed her eyes—and she let herself be taken away.

"I love you," he rasped between hot kisses. "I love you so much…"

It was like the center of her entire universe shifted in that moment. Who cared that he would most likely leave as soon as his phone rang? Who cared that there was a chance that she would wake up alone in the morning? Who cared that her heart would break into tiny little splinters? Who cared that she would be alone in picking them up and mending them back together? Not her. Because hearing those word come out of his mouth, feeling him as close as humanly possible, having his warmth envelop her… It was worth everything. It was worth the pain.

The bad memories, the heartbreak, all the times she had woken up alone to cry into his pillow, the cold winter nights when no one was there to keep her warm, the moments her heart was aching for him and he wasn't there… Everything was forgotten as he pounded her to a climax that rattled the foundation of her entire world. And even in the midst of his own ecstasy, he was still careful enough to cradle her head in his hand as she threw it back carelessly, stopping it from hitting the wall.

Afterwards, he held her in his arms and kissed her gently, coaxing her lips to respond, hands caressing her body soothingly. She wanted to cry. She wanted to smile. But most of all, she wanted to remain there—in his arms, forever. And for a moment, she allowed herself to believe that it was possible for his arms to never let her go. But then reality came crashing down on her, and tears prickled her eyes.

Burying her face into the crook of his neck, she clung to him with all the strength left in her small body, nails digging into his shoulders.

Pressing his lips to her hair, he held her tighter and slowly led her to the bed, laying her down as gently as possible. Anna shivered as the cold mattress made contact with her skin, and was thankful for his warm weight as he lowered himself upon her considerably smaller body. He kissed her again—slowly, gently, tenderly—and she gave a silent whine as his body suddenly lifted from above her own, every contact severed. Pushing her head into the pillow, she watched with half-lidded eyes as he walked the distance to the closet in order to grab a spare blanket. Feeling the cold beginning to prickle against her skin, she took his silence advice and slipped under the duvet, curling up on her side of the bed with a hand under her head.

After spreading the blanket over the existing bed covers for extra warmth, Yoh slipped in beside her, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world when he wrapped his arms around her and brought her closer to his toned body. They shared a few more kisses as their bodies slowly relaxed and their heartbeats returned to normal; Anna placed her lips to his warm shoulder before she buried her face into the crook of his neck, exhaling contently. It was the first time in longer than she could remember that she felt so safe.

As the exhaustion of the past month coupled with the heavy jet lag started to catch up with him, Yoh began to slowly slip into unconsciousness. He was almost asleep when he felt her slip out of his embrace, and he opened his tired eyes to observe her.

She had sat up, holding the sheet close to her naked chest, and seemed about to leave the bed. He ran a hand over her back to make her aware of his presence.

"Where are you going?" he asked drowsily, a furrow between his brows.

"I'm thirsty," she explained in a whisper, bending down to press a light kiss to his mouth. "Go back to sleep."

"I'll go," he murmured against her lips. "You stay here. Under the covers," he instructed as he sat up, searching for his abandoned boxers.

Her eyes softening, she lied back down. Yoh had already located the desired piece of clothing and put it on when she opened her mouth to speak, looking up at him. "They're—"

"Anna," he said, fixing her with a firm stare as he hovered over her. "I know where the water bottles are."

Kissing her cheek, he wandered out of the dark room.

Anna bit down on her lower lip as she watched his retreating figure. Soon enough, she could see clearly what he had meant: the room was _freezing_. Even underneath the blankets, she shivered.

Handing her the small bottle of water when he returned, he made his way back to the closet, searching for yet another blanket as she quenched her thirst. He draped it over the other two before slipping in beside her, curling an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his embrace. She was already cold—he could feel it in the tiny tremors that wrecked her body and the cold tint to her silky skin.

"Hmm," he murmured in her ear, snuggling her even closer, "It's a good thing I'm here to keep you warm. I'd forgotten how small you are."

"Of course you have," she murmured to herself, not meaning for him to hear. The way his body tensed beneath her told her he had, though. Heaving a sigh, she pressed an apologetic kiss to his chest. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She was bitter, and perhaps she had every right to be, but it was out of line now. This wasn't his fault, and she was ruining the little time she had left with him.

His hand smoothed over her blonde locks, either in understanding or in acceptance, and he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. Anna sighed once more, this time in contentment, and shifted slightly, her head retaking its place in the crook of his neck.

"I missed this," she murmured, changing the subject.

"The sex?" he joked.

She huffed an amused breath. "No," she said. "I meant… this." She trailed a hand down his abdomen, and he knew exactly what she meant. He had missed it, too—this quiet, peaceful intimacy.

He caressed her back underneath the blanket; her skin was soft, like satin, and warm now that he was there. Her hair tickled his cheek, its sweet aroma inviting and comforting. After so much time spent apart, having her in his arms seemed something otherworldly, too good to be true.

"You know…" He hesitated, unsure of whether it was truly the right thing to say. Was he being selfish? Was he being overly-emotional? Was he being plain-out stupid? But he had already started, and his wife deserved to hear the rest. "You could always come with me," he finished in a murmur, tucking a lock of hair gently behind her ear.

She raised her head to look at him in confusion, propping her chin on his chest.

"You don't have to stay at home, alone," he clarified. "You can come with me."

She shook her head, and rested her cheek back upon his warm skin. "There are people out there who need you more than I do."

"And who told you you'd get in the way?" he teased.

She glanced up at him once more. "Isn't that logical?"

Yoh smiled. "Last time I checked, you were Shaman Queen."

She frowned. "But—"

"I never told you," he interrupted her, knowing what she was about to ask, "I never told you because I know you have a life here. I didn't want to make you feel pressured, to force you to come with me, to follow me everywhere… It's tiring, everything I do. It's all I can do to crash on a bed sometimes. I—"

He would have continued, but then her lips were upon his and his ability to think rationally was gone.

"Take me with you," she whispered, blonde hair falling around them like a curtain. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, and her heart felt ready to burst out of her chest. For the first time in so long, hope was flourishing inside of her. "It doesn't matter. As long as I'm with you… As long as I'm able to feel your warmth next to me every night… As long as I can see your smile at least once a day… It's enough."

"Is it?" he asked uncertainly, as he tangled his hands in her hair, his eyes begging her to answer affirmatively.

Anna smiled down at him, nodding. "Yes."

With hints of a grin pulling at the corners of his lips, he rolled her over in one swift movement so that he was now the one on top, accommodating himself between her legs and causing a small laugh to tumble past her lips. Rounding his neck with her arms as he cradled her against him, she stretched her neck to peck his lips.

"I love you," he whispered, brushing strands of hair gently away from her face. "You're everything to me, Anna. You're everything that matters."

"I love you, too," she said, looking up at him adoringly.

His voice suddenly backed by uncharacteristic seriousness, he pressed, "I want to make you happy."

Anna grinned, propping herself up on her elbows to brush her lips against his ear as she whispered her challenge, "Go ahead."

She felt his grin on her cheek, and in the next instant, his lips were on hers.

It was the first time in a long time that she had the certainty—everything would be alright.

* * *

_**A/N:** I suck at writing lemons, but this story would be nothing without one, so I did my best. Anyway, the focus should be on their emotions, haha! _

_Angsty as it is, though, I couldn't resist giving them a happy ending! Which was quite cheesy, BUT! Do you have any idea how hard it is sometimes to end a story? I was ready to rip my hair out in frustration at some point! _

_If you find any mistakes, my bad! I might have been (read: was) half-lazy, half-asleep when I proofread this, so let me know and I'll correct them right away! :)  
_

_Check my Flickr account to see how I imagined our favorite blonde's outfit! _

_Also, also! Review, please! I'd really like to know what you thought about this! _


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